Eternal Night
by Sephielya J. Maxwell
Summary: Protagonist/Futomimi, yaoi. When he's awake, he remembers. When he's asleep, he dreams. There is no escape from his failures... Or can he find comfort with the one that he "failed"?


Notes: Warning, major spoilers for SMT:3 Nocturne. You will _not _understand this if you have not played, or if you don't know a lot about the game. I wanted to use the name I chose for the main character, Seimei (yeah I cheated, it means name!) because I thought the nick-name Sei-sama was cute (Futomimi calls him by his nick-name in the game). But I decided against it because I was afraid it would be confusing for people.

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Eternal Night

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The scent of blood was so strong that he could taste it. Everything was wet and damp down here, but the heat of battle and the stench of death had tainted its pure coldness. This holy place had been desecrated and utterly destroyed in under an hour. Tell tale surges of power told him where to go, but in the end he had been powerless to stop it from happening. He hadn't been quick enough, hadn't been strong enough. Magatushi-rich waters had been tainted and depleted, leaving behind a river of blood. And amidst it stood the reputed Demi-Fiend, alone.

It had been over two weeks since that day, but still Naoki awoke in a cold sweat. He sat straight up, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his breath, fists clenched in the cheap, dirty sheets. It was hard enough to find a safe place to sleep, asking for it to be comfortable as well would just be too much. Swallowing hard, he turned his silvery eyes to the side. Equally light eyes stared back in the dim light of the small room, and Naoki froze.

"Naoki... are you alright?" Futomimi asked, a slight frown of worry crossing his elegant brow. He sat on his knees, hands clasped in his lap as if he had been that way all night. The Demi-Fiend sighed, running his fingers through his short dark hair as he averted his eyes.

"I'm fine... Where's Dante?" Naoki asked carefully.

"He didn't return last night. I think he decided to find somewhere else than this, but I'm sure that he'll be back. He works for you, doesn't he?" The Manikin asked, a hint of worry to his voice. Naoki looked back up, nodding. He licked his dry lips, seeming to stare intently at the only other one in the room. Besides his demons, which he could summon, only Futomimi and Dante were able to stay with him twenty-four seven, so they _were _alone. For the first time since he had brought the Prophet back, they were alone without Dante. "...Naoki, you really don't look so—Wha—Naoki?" The Manikin's eyes widened a little as the Demi-Fiend moved swiftly towards him, crawling like a stalking cat across the small space between the mats that they slept on. Naoki gripped Futomimi's sleeve, tugging him closer. His other hand moved up behind the Manikin's head as he rose to his knees, pulling the other closer still.

Naoki's lips sealed over the other's tightly, suddenly warm and moist. Futomimi's back straightened as he gasped into the kiss, but he did not pull away. The Demi-Fiend's other hand moved to his hip, fingers rubbing at his slender hip through his robe-like clothing. The Manikin's eyelids fluttered closed as he felt the other's tongue slip forth to lick at his full lips, tasting them gently. He parted them slowly, returning the kiss almost timidly. On his knees Naoki was taller then he was, and when the kiss finally broke he found himself looking up at the other man. Hot breath mingled with each other's, moist lips still faintly touching as their eyes opened. The Prophet's perfect raven hair had been mussed by the Demi-Fiend's careless touching, strands hanging down into his face, a contrast against perfectly cream-colored skin. They each licked their own lips, as if tasting each other on them.

Earth... Futomimi tasted like the earth. He pressed his cheek against the smaller man's, nuzzling his neck as he inhaled his scent. He even smelled like the earth... He really was...

"...Naoki," Futomimi's hand came up, resting on Naoki's bare shoulder. He turned his head into the Demi-Fiend's neck. "Tell me what is wrong." He said patiently. Ever so patient, this one. Unlike everyone else in this world.

"...I keep having nightmares. About... that day. There was... Nothing I could do." He swallowed hard. The Prophet remained silent for a moment, his slender fingers reaching around to run through the other's hair, down to the horn on the back of his neck. Naoki shuddered. "You begged me, and I sill couldn't do a thing. I killed those Angels, but I wasn't fast enough!"

"Naoki, it isn't your..."

"Yes it is. It is, Futomimi. I spent too much time worrying about my friends, even though I know now that there's no going back. They will never be who they once were ever again... I left you and the Manikins, when you were the ones that I really should have been protecting." Naoki proclaimed, the hand on Futomimi's hip gripping slightly as he moved their bodies closer, his knee sliding between the Manikin's thighs, causing the robe to lift past the Prophet's knees. Futomimi seemed to shudder, and he gently caressed the horn behind Naoki's neck.

"...No Naoki," The Manikin corrected, closing his eyes in shame. "It was my fault. I shut you out, remember? I tried to deny that you could effect my destiny, even though I already told you that you would. I had seen it for myself, and I had never been wrong. When I was being tortured by the Mantra, the only thing that kept me going was knowing that you would come... But still, I thought that because I was different, I could break the bonds that hold my people in place. Our ties to the Vortex World." He swallowed.

"But why... why did you shut me out?" Naoki's hand was gripping the other's robe now, as if he was ready to tear the damned thing off. He rose up on his knees, sliding his body closer until his thigh was against the Manikin's groin, causing Futomimi's lips to go slack as he took in a swift hiss of a breath. Both hands moved up to the Prophet's face, tilting his chin up. Naoki brushed the stray hair away from his eyes, staring hard into them. "I might have been able to help..."

"I..." Futomimi's ever calm, ever patient voice was trembling slightly. "...I was afraid. Of the demon with the human heart... The Demi-Fiend who had helped us, and asked for nothing in return. I wanted... to test you. You could have forced me to let you in, but you didn't. You never entered Mifunishiro until... _she..._"

"Did you know? That Chiaki was coming."

"I... Yes. I knew. I thought that if I could find Reason, I could summon a God of our own, and then we wouldn't—"

"Stop!" Naoki shifted their bodies suddenly. Futomimi's back hit the thin mat with a rush of air, his wrists seized and held out to the side. They felt so frail in his hands, even if he knew what strength those hands held. Knees still bent, his robe fell to his waist, dangerously high to bare his pale thighs and barely cover him. "Don't say that...! Just a moment ago, I kissed you to make sure that you were really here! If you say that, I... I won't be able to control myself." The Demi-Fiend swallowed hard, his black tattoos lining with green and glowing dully in the dim light of the room. The paleness of the Manikin's surprised face and his sinfully bare legs only seemed to stand out farther in this light, however. He didn't struggle, only changed his expression slowly.

"...But Naoki, if you _know, _then you must accept..."

"How can you talk like that? I said not to." Naoki's voice was pained as he leaned down. Lips sealed over the Prophet's again, and this time he kissed him hard. Futomimi's hands curled into fists, but he closed his eyes as he returned the kiss. There was a slight whimper as teeth bit down on his lower lip, but still he allowed it. Their bodies were still inches apart, but Naoki's knee moved up until he felt it touch flesh, and Futomimi moved at last. He arched his back, turning his head to the side as he pulled at his captive wrists. Naoki licked his lips, moving so that his breath tickled the hair loose at the Manikin's ear as he whispered in a low voice. "...You pushed my hand." He said softly, and he released one slender wrist.

"How did I...?" The Prophet began, his newly freed hand moving to push at the Demi-Fiend's shoulder. He froze as he felt Naoki's hand on the outside of his thigh, just above his knee. Warm, slightly calloused fingers slid down across the silky-smooth skin, all the way to the supple backside that was hidden under the robes. Futomimi gasped, closing his eyes and biting his lower lip as Naoki gave his hips a slow grind, rubbing his thigh against the other's hidden member.

"Ah..." A small breath of air was all that came of the groan the Demi-Fiend gave upon squeezing one full cheek, feeling Futomimi's knees press in on his waist as if he was trying to curl up. He had always thought a woman might feel like this—soft and smooth, unblemished and perfect. But the proof of the Manikin's masculinity was currently pressed firmly against his thigh in protest to that thought. His tongue slipped out to trace the shell of the Manikin's ear slowly before taking the fleshy earlobe into his teeth gently.

"_Mn... Naoki..._" Futomimi breathed, panting lightly now. Naoki's tongue slipped down again, and then up from his collar-bone to the back of his ear. The hand that had been on the Demi-Fiend's shoulder moved to the back of his neck, holding on gently to the horn.

"_Futomimi_..." Hot breath cooled the saliva that he had left behind. The Prophet turned his face to again look upon the half-demon above him. His silver eyes were half-lidded, drunk on what the other male was doing to his body. He had no idea what it was, and yet he felt as if it was right. Naoki's hand had grasped his robe, and his eyes were questioning. With the smallest of nods, he closed his eyes again. He lifted his arms as he let it be removed completely, having been wearing nothing underneath. Cool air assaulted his sweat-dampened flesh inch-by-inch as it was revealed by the lifting clothing. He shuddered from it—but that was not the only reason. Those eyes, the eyes of the Demi-Fiend that he both revered and feared were assessing him. He could feel them move over his skin as if they were his calloused fingertips, and his eyes opened wide as those hands did indeed touch him. They traced his collar-bone, sliding down to his pert, pink nipples.

"Ha-_nn_..." Futomimi licked his own kiss-swollen lips as he watched Naoki's face, but the Demi-Fiend's eyes were on what his hands were doing. Thumbs rubbed over the small nubs of flesh, just before he lent down to repeat the movement on the right one—with his tongue. The Manikin felt as if he'd just been hit with zio, his body giving a shudder that shot straight from his chest to his shamefully bared arousal. But Naoki's how, moist mouth was sucking lightly, taking his nipple into his teeth to tug and nip playfully. "_Nao...kii..._" He groaned, head tilting back as his hands moved to the other's shoulders again.

Everything about him reminded Naoki of the earth. His rich, musky scent, to his sweat-slick skin, and even the now salty taste of that milky flesh. How he hated it... He had enough sense about him to stick three of his fingers in his mouth briefly, sucking them lightly to get his saliva flowing. A thin strand of it still clung to his fingers as he pulled them out, breaking as he moved his hips back, lifting his body from the other's. He moved up between the other's thighs with his hips this time, hovering above him with one hand to brace himself. Futomimi watched him curiously, one hand gripping Naoki's horn nervously. "...Don't talk about it anymore..." Naoki whispered, slick fingers brushing the Manikin's entrance. The Prophet gasped, but one slender finger pushed in without warning, and the Demi-Fiend was still speaking. "Futomimi..." He moved his finger around slowly, and the other held his breath as if to hear the rest of what his savior was trying to say. "...I _can't _lose you again...!" Naoki finished his whisper harshly.

"Ah-_aahaa... _Naoki... that...!" As the second finger was added, Futomimi winced. His hips shifted as his body writhed slowly under the Demi-fiend's. Naoki didn't have to hear it, he knew it had to hurt. He was doing this as carefully as he could, but pain was going to be present no matter what he did. The hand on his horn was holding so tightly that he could feel the Manikin's racing pulse through it—and he liked that. A pulse meant he had a heart. It meant that blood ran through those veins, even if his skin tasted slightly of the earth. He lent down again, bathing the left nipple with his tongue this time. Futomimi's back arched, head falling back again as he let the dual-sensations take him over.

The Manikin had felt pain before. At the hands of the Mantra, he had felt so much pain that he had wished they would simply grow tired of him and kill him. This was not that kind of pain. This pain that Naoki gave him ran much deeper, and awoke something inside of him, instead of shutting it off. The pleasure of the Demi-Fiend's lips, teeth, and tongue outweighed the pain that his careful fingers brought ten-fold. Even as the third finger was added, and another high-pitched whine escaped his throat, he knew that he could endure it. At the fourth, he was biting his lower lip, eyes closed tightly.

Naoki frowned to see that he other's eyes were closed, and he kissed his bitten lips softly. When he was greeted with a soft gaze, he gave a slight smile. He pressed his fingers deep, searching as he stretched him. He felt the Manikin's body give a slight jolt just as he felt his fingertips brushing something hard, and he delighted in the first full-throated cry that it wrenched from Futomimi's throat. Deciding it was time, he pulled his fingers back. Futomimi moaned quietly at their loss, his fingers loosening their grip on his horn. Naoki moved his hands to his own pants, sliding them off as swiftly as he was able. Just as he moved up between the Manikin's thighs, strong hands gripped his shoulders. Naoki frowned slightly, distressed.

"Will you... deny me again? You still... will not allow me entrance?" He asked, and his voice was crest-fallen. Futomimi's eyes half-closed, and he felt all of his own insecurities rise to the surface as well. He didn't want to be parted from this Demi-Fiend. He didn't want his people to suffer their sad fate—they never asked to be created. He didn't want to fade when the new world came to be. He had tried to be strong, but he had been depended on all of his short life. What he had been afraid of when he pushed Naoki away was simple. He didn't know how to depend on anyone else. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

"...No... Never again. Please, Naoki... Verify me." He whispered.

The both of them cried out as Naoki entered him. Futomimi's arms wound around his neck, one hand holding onto his horn as if it were a life-line. The Demi-Fiend froze, catching the scent of blood at once. It was a very small tear, but had happened. Nothing to do about it. There was no way that they could stop now. He waited until Futomimi had stopped trembling to pull back. Naoki's arms moved under the Manikin's back, gripping his shoulders so that he could pull him down into his next move, rolling his body from his shoulders to his hips to deliver the powerful thrust. The Manikin cried out again as his body was jolted by the movement, short nails finding purchase in the Demi-Fiend's back.

Careless of the limits of their bodies, the two ill-fated inhabitants of the Vortex World moved together, as one for this short time. Panting breath mingled as well as moans and perhaps even whispered words. The scent of sweat and sex was all around them, and there would be no hiding it in the morning. The taste of each other's lips, flesh, and perhaps a few tears as well. The sound of flesh meeting again and again was sinfully loud in the small, empty room. It was outdone only by their voices, which reached as loud as their breathless moans could carry them, every passionate thrust accompanied by a gasp or heartfelt groan. The Manikin's toned thighs wrapped tightly around the Demi-fiend's waist, heels pressing into Naoki thighs just under his ass, pulling him back into every thrust.

No matter what tomorrow brought, they were together now. Alive and breathing, drowning in each other's amorous affection. And when Naoki's hand slid between them to stroke Futomimi's neglected arousal, everything became a blinding, brilliant light, taking them both to a higher plane of existence—if only for a few blissful moments.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Hours later, after the both of them had taken the proper time to come down from their delirious moments of peace, both Demi-Fiend and Manikin lay awake. Futomimi sat on his knees again, his feet under him comfortably. His raven hair was down about his shoulders, falling to hide his face from the sides as he gazed down at the Demi-fiend's head in his lap. Naoki lay curled up beside him, one thumb rubbing the Manikin's knee slowly. Futomimi stroked his fingers through his short hair slowly as well. Neither of them spoke a word, because they knew that at this point there was nothing to be said. They were going to spend their every waking moments together from this point on, come what may. Futomimi had once again resigned himself to his fate, but Naoki was defiant still.

He _would _find a way to keep his lover with him. There was no longer any point in a world without Futomimi. How could he allow there to be a world that created such beings full of life and feelings, only to toss them aside when they were no longer needed? He was going to save Futomimi, and all of the Manikins, even if he had to keep this world in the turmoil of the Vortex to do it. At least, that was what he wanted. This was what he told himself as he closed his eyes, lulled to sleep by the gentle petting of his Prophet lover.

For tonight, they had each other. But even in this world, there was no such thing as an eternal night.


End file.
